


it will come back

by squadrickchestopher



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Breaking and Entering, Coffee, First Meetings, M/M, Millennial Bucky Barnes, Pre-Slash, Winter Soldier Clint Barton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28858131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squadrickchestopher/pseuds/squadrickchestopher
Summary: Then there’s a blond man standing over him, and an arrow is pointed in his face, and a pair of sharp blue eyes are searching his. That’s about all Bucky can make out, given that the rest is obscured by a mask, but it’s enough to be sure it’s not Steve. Mostly because Steve would’ve used the front door, like a normal person, and because there’s anarrowtwo inches from his eyes, and because Steve has never threatened to harm Bucky at any time in their entire friendship.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 29
Kudos: 188
Collections: Winterhawk Bingo Round Two





	it will come back

**Author's Note:**

> _Don't let me in with no intention to keep me_   
>  _Jesus Christ, don't be kind to me._   
>  _Honey, don't feed me, I will come back_
> 
> Winterhawk Bingo G4, "winter soldier!Clint/Modern!Bucky. Unbetaed, mistakes are mine.

The creak of the window opening is what wakes him. He’s slumped over at the kitchen table, head on his laptop and dead to the world when that sharp little _squeak_ cuts through his dreams, sends him skittering back to life with a supremely unattractive snort and a sleepy, “Steve?”

Then there’s a blond man standing over him, and an arrow is pointed in his face, and a pair of sharp blue eyes are searching his. That’s about all Bucky can make out, given that the rest is obscured by a mask, but it’s enough to be sure it’s not Steve. Mostly because Steve would’ve used the front door, like a normal person, and because there’s an _arrow_ two inches from his eyes, and because Steve has never threatened to harm Bucky at any time in their entire friendship.

The man holds the arrow steady. “Where is he?”

Bucky offers a long, slow blink. He’s definitely awake now, and should probably be more alarmed. But also, he’s on his third all-nighter in a row, and his table is littered with open books and papers, and honestly, his brain is still too full of panic over his upcoming finals to have any room for _extra_ panic. So he just blinks again, and says, “I don’t know.”

“You are his roommate,” the man says, glaring at him. “James Buchanan Barnes.”

Bucky winces. “Bucky,” he says, realizing half a second later how ridiculous it is to introduce himself to a guy who’s holding him at arrow-point at three in the morning. “It’s Bucky. Who are you?”

“Where is Steve Rogers?”

“I don’t know.” Bucky leans back. “Can you ease up a little with the…” He waves a hand. “Arrow?”

The glowering increases. Bucky’s not sure if the guy’s trying to intimidate him or if he just doesn’t believe him, but it’s true. Bucky has no fucking clue where Steve could be. Ever since this whole Captain America thing started, he’s been out doing lifesaving hero stuff at all hours of the night. And the day. Honestly, Bucky has no idea when the guy even sleeps.

“I’m serious,” he says. “I don’t know where he is. I haven’t seen him in days. I haven’t seen anyone in days.” He gestures to the table, and watches as those blue eyes flick over, assessing the chaos in a single glance. “It’s finals week. I’m in self-imposed isolation until I learn everything in the entire world.”

Another glance over, and then a slight confusion, eyebrows drawing together. “What?”

“That’s an exaggeration,” Bucky says. “Just _feels_ like everything. This is day four. I’m slowly going insane. It’s fine. Everything is fine.”

The man looks confused, like he’s not entirely sure what Bucky’s talking about. But he finally does step back, removing the arrow from Bucky’s face “I need Steve Rogers.”

“Can I ask why?”

Those blue eyes meet his, seem to pierce right through him. For a moment, Bucky think’s he’s not going to answer. Dead silence fills the kitchen, the air thick with tension. Then, almost unsure, he says, “He’s my mission.”

Bucky nods slowly. “And…what were you gonna do with him?”

“Take him back.”

“To where?”

“The handlers.” This is said with faint disgust, like he doesn’t want to go back there at all. “They told me to bring him. I have twenty-four hours left.” He wavers a little on his feet, looking like he’s about to fall over.

Bucky watches this for a second, then nudges a chair towards him. “Wanna sit down?”

The man’s eyes snap to him, studying him with an intensity that makes Bucky want to crawl under a rock and hide. He makes himself sit still, though, makes himself look right back, and after a moment, the guy slowly lowers himself into the chair. Then he reaches up and tugs off the mask, revealing a face that’s a lot younger than Bucky had anticipated.

A lot more attractive, too. God. Bucky’s sitting down and still nearly manages to fall over himself as he studies the curve of his jaw, the plush line of his lips. Between that and the blond hair, Bucky’s half-gone on him already. What can he say? He’s got a type.

“Twenty-four hours,” he says after a moment, forcing himself to focus, and gets a nod in return. “That’s not a long time. How long have you been looking?”

“Three days.” His hand clenches around the bow. “I have to find him.”

“Well,” Bucky says, “I’d say you came to the right place, but I’m telling you the truth. I haven’t seen him in almost a week.”

“Oh.”

It’s the most defeated sound Bucky’s ever heard in his life, and he feels a wave of exhaustion-induced sympathy towards the guy. Intruder or not, nefarious plans or not, Bucky knows what it’s like to be at the end of his rope and starting to swing. He’s been in that place for a few days now himself.

A tiny meow startles both of them, and suddenly Alpine rises from a pile of papers on the table, looking very put out about something. Bucky reaches forward and scoops her up, ignoring her meowing protests. “Sorry,” he says, dragging his hand over the white fur. “This is Alpine. My cat.”

The guy looks at her warily. She looks right back at him, then squirms her way out of Bucky’s hands, landing on the table with perfect precision. They both stare at her as she meows again, delicately picking her way across the papers before jumping into the guy’s lap, curling up like she belongs there.

“Uh,” Bucky says. “I’m…sorry. I can—” He gestures vaguely towards her. “I can get her.”

“No,” the guy says after a moment, and sets his hand on her, gloved fingers gently stroking over her soft fur. “I—she’s okay.”

Bucky stares at the scene for a moment, then rubs a hand over his face. “Look,” he says. “Why don’t you tell me your name? I’ll make some coffee for us, and you can tell me what your friends want with Steve, and then we can figure out where to go from there. Okay?”

There’s a little rational part of his mind that’s screaming at him. A tiny voice in the back of his mind that’s yelling _this guy broke into your apartment and probably wants to kill your best friend, what the fuck are you doing???_

But he’s pretty, and he’s tired, and Bucky has always been a sucker for taking in strays. So he waits, fingers tapping nervously on his thigh.

“Why?” the man asks after a moment.

He shrugs. “Look like you could use a cup.”

There’s a long pause. The guy looks down, curls his fingers over Alpine’s fur. Then he shrugs—a tiny, almost unnoticeable movement. “Okay.”

“Great,” Bucky says. He gets up and sets some coffee to brew, grabbing the seven mugs off the table in a sudden fit of embarrassment. “Finals,” he says again, waving an elbow at the table. “Computer hardware engineering. My brain is full of circuits and keyboards right now.”

The guy just nods a little, like he doesn’t really understand but he’s trying to be polite, and Bucky’s heart warms a little. He washes two mugs and fills one with coffee. “You want anything in it?”

“I don’t know,” the guy says. “I don’t—what is it?”

“Heaven in a cup,” Bucky says, and slides it across the table to him. “Try it. Steve’s a weak bastard, so I keep creamer and stuff around for him. Let me know if that’s too bitter.”

He picks it up and takes a careful sip. Bucky watches, hand on the fridge door, and it’s only because he’s looking so closely that he’s able to see the wonder blossom in those pretty blue eyes.

“It’s good,” he says, looking at it. “It’s—it’s strong. The flavor.”

“Yeah, it’s the good shit. I don’t skimp on coffee.” Bucky leans against the fridge. “You like it as is?”

“Yes.” He curls both hands around the mug, looking like someone’s going to take it from him. It makes Bucky’s heart hurt a little, and he has to make himself pick up his own cup, sitting down in the chair opposite him.

“Good,” he says. “Plenty more where that came from.”

They sit in silence for a long time, broken only by the distant traffic and the tick of the clock behind them.

“My name is Clint,” the guy says after a while, one hand moving to settle on Alpine’s head. She purrs and arches into his touch, and a tiny, tiny smile crosses his face.

Bucky nods. “Bucky,” he says again, and gets up. “You want more coffee?”

Clint looks up at him. He still looks defeated, still looks utterly exhausted, still looks like he’s expecting cruelty at any second. But there’s a tiny bit of hopefulness there too, and his hand curls tighter into Alpine’s fur. “Yeah,” he says after a moment, hesitantly returning Bucky’s smile. “I'd like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr!](https://feedmecookiesnow.tumblr.com/)


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